In every witching life, there will be a moment to kick you over the edge and make you look for your demon.
Maybe, you ran into a glass door, or let fall a box that had made to several people safely before it reached you – in this moment, when any measures of safety click off and the little witch inside takes over thoughts and makes the knees give in, you‘ll find yourself on the floor yearning for the shadows.
„Makes sense, doesn‘t it?“, my witch giggled into the cup of tea supposed to warm our soar throat. „Just think of all the darkness you have to make through for a demon to even be wanting to seduce you.“
If a demon seduced you, back in the days of my witch, it could have been seen as not your fault, since he played a trick on your tormented heart, but why was your heart so tormented in the first place? What upset your inner ocean? Back in the days of my witch, everyone knew that only those equipped with enough fantasy could even fall for those demons‘ sorcery, revealing their flaws.
Better stay away from daydreams and any kind thought about a better world.
Sounds crazy?
I thought so too, but then I had to remember my uncle raging about those „climate change believers“ while curling his mustache, or of my parents joking about me not finishing my first attempt of novel writing at the age of 12.
Having fantastic thoughts, or daydreams, or even an agenda for the world makes vulnerable. It causes waves within the inner ocean. Waves that scream: „This pain is not right!“ And it makes the heart ache even more, and makes it ache so badly, that you take the hand reaching out from the shadows, and their touch makes sense of you.
My throat hurts for the first time in two years, and I have just taken the second test myself today to determine what kind of problem I was about to have. A friend agrees with me via text message that a vaccinated person with two negative tests would most likely only have a normal cold, but I feel overwhelmed and sink down to the floor, curling around my cup of tea.
„Your demon has to be someone you can spend hours thinking about while curling up in the kitchen floor“, my witch giggles and I am thinking of someone I would like to share my soar throat with but am yet too shy to do so.
Why I am not a nice girl
I am not your nice, Christian girl next door, as you might have noticed. And this is not a role I play for this blogging project, or to promote my writing and music. This is me, and I stick to it, even when it gets complicated, and believe me: It becomes an issue more often…
Intimate tale
I yearn for those moments,When I existedsolelyin your eyes.When I wasnothingBut an image causingCuriosity.I lived in those momentsWhen you knewNothingAbout the scarsBetween myThighs.Moments that werePure and softAnd kept mySecretWithout anyFalsity.In those momentsI felt loveFor all the thingsYou mustn’tKnow.All the thingsWent looseWithin myHeadAnd found their wayOnto myTongue.I still amThese momentsWhen I hadYouAnd you deniedThe thingsI wanted…
The tale of mental health in a burning world
“Wanna feel better?”, my witch asks me as she presents tonight’s options. Do we want to get drunk and risk a headache? Do we want to try out yoga again although we’ve never managed to take it seriously? Do we want to escape the last traces of reality by watching a sitcom and ignoring the…
Mistress witch writes 